


Under the Ethereal Moon

by RoseisaRoseisaRose



Series: Fluffcember 2020 [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluffcember 2020, It's all fluff!, multiple stories per chapter, not chronological, short vignette collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseisaRoseisaRose/pseuds/RoseisaRoseisaRose
Summary: Annette can’t stop getting distracted by absolute villains. Felix can’t stop humming nonsense songs about exploding libraries to himself as he falls asleep. And neither can stop the dozens of tiny, insignificant, monumental ways they keep falling in love with each other.Nor would they want to.A series of short vignettes about Felix and Annette, written for the Fluffcember 2020 twitter writing prompts.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: Fluffcember 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046863
Comments: 33
Kudos: 78





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!
> 
> This is a collection of the Netteflix vignettes I've written for the Fluffcember 2020 writing challenge! [You can find the prompt list here.](https://twitter.com/doop_doop2/status/1306753380182712321) They're all pretty short (100-500 words), and they're all Netteflix. I'll post the other ships to the same series, so keep an eye for updates.
> 
> Hope you like them!

_Sharing a Drink_

“Why am I here?”

Annette looked up midway from pouring the tea, surprise causing her to spill tea over the sides of cups and onto the gazebo table. Felix held out a handkerchief, but Annette waved him away with a smile that was just a bit too bright, and he begrudgingly took the teacup and saucer she pushed into his hands, tea splashing over the edges.

“Do I need a reason to have tea with my good friend Felix?” she asked brightly. “No! I don’t think so.”

“You want something,” Felix said. It wasn’t a question. “This another bribe. Like the stables. And the steak.”

“Don’t. Mention. Steak.” Annette lifted the teacup to her lips, but winced immediately. Too hot, evidently. “I just thought maybe we got off on the wrong foot, in the greenhouse. And the library. And when I called you an insufferable oaf in lecture like week. I just thought maybe we could start over.”

Felix’s heart flipped in a way he wasn’t used to. Annette was smart. She was funny. People liked her. She had the loudest laugh he’d ever heard and when he was around her he forget about everything but that. And she wanted to be friends.

He was certain she still _wanted_ something from him, but maybe he could make this work.

Felix took a sip of his tea and was certain she had poisoned him. It was supposed to be Almyran Pine Needles, he recognized that, but something was off about it that he couldn’t quite place, a saccharine overtone to the earthy tea he was so fond of. He was shocked Annette would stoop to something as low as poison, just for a couple of songs and a clumsy attempt at small talk –

Annette stared at him over her own teacup, one hand holding a sugar cube as she watched him cough.

Felix was caught between the realization that the tea had already been sweetened and the horror that she somehow wanted it even _sweeter_.

“Is everything alright?” she asked, her eyes enormous.

“I’m just –” Felix coughed into his handkerchief. “I’m just pleased you knew this was my favorite tea, that’s all.”

It was a terrible lie. Annette beamed at him. “Sylvain told me,” she said eagerly, stirring yet another sugar cube into her tea. “He was so excited to hear we were having tea.”

Felix winced into his teacup as he took a sip, but Annette was humming a song to herself as she carefully selected a cookie from the plate beside them.

He could make it work.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Holding Hands_

Annette dipped her quill in ink and frantically scribbled another annotation. She had less than a week before her month-long visit to the School of Sorcery archives, and she was woefully behind in her research preparation.

Felix’s elbow bumped into hers, splattering ink across her page. Annette turned to glare at him.

Felix had less than a week before his month-long visit to the Fhirdiad court, and he was desperately catching up on all the correspondence he had promised Dimitri he’d write. Letters were sprawled out on the library table next to Annette, and Felix was sprawled in a similarly disorderly manner. His elbow bumped into Annette again as he started a new line, and she scowled at him.

“Felix!” she said, placing her quill in its holder and crossing her arms. “I can’t work with you bumping _into_ me like that all the time. Can’t you write . . . smaller?”

Felix gave her a confused look. “That’s just how I write,” he said, unrepentant. “Have you ever thought that maybe _you’re_ the one crashing into _me_?”

“I was here first!” Annette exclaimed. It was true. She’d been at the library since dinner. Felix only showed up when it became too dark for evening training. “I don’t see why you didn’t sit across from me. There’s plenty of space on the other side of the table.”

Felix gave a disparaging glance to the other side of the table. “It’s so far away,” he muttered, looking back at Annette with a look of disappointment she’d always found remarkably – and annoyingly – plaintive for such an otherwise stoic face.

“Well, sit where you want,” she said grumpily. “Just don’t bump me while I'm writing.”

Felix sighed and stood up, gathering his papers. He surprised Annette, however, by not taking a seat across from her, or leaving the room altogether – she knew she could be a bit much sometimes – but instead moving to the chair on the other side of her. He spread his letters out and flashed her a small, rare smile.

“We won’t bump arms now,” he said, and Annette smiled back.

She returned to her notes, satisfied with the solution and fully ready to tackle yet another treatise on magical properties, until Felix reached out to grab her other hand, interlacing their fingers.

“Felix, I thought we agreed no more crashing,” Annette protested with an impatient glace. Felix raised an eyebrow and lifted their hands slightly.

“What, are you using this for anything?” he asked. “You can’t write with both hands, can you?”

Annette would have objected to such villainous behavior, but he smiled at her again, almost sheepish, and that was two smiles in one night. She let their hands drop back to the table with a soft _thud_ and turned her attention back to her notes.

She didn’t get through nearly as many books as she wanted to that night, but having Felix there was so nice that she didn’t really mind.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_First Kiss_

The first thing Annette thought about, when Felix leaned down to kiss her, was how strange lips were.

She’d read about so many kisses that she had been fairly confident she knew what her first would be like. Fireworks, for one, like the kind they had at festivals in Fhirdiad. Probably a choir singing in the background. In all likelihood, a wave of perfect satisfaction washing over every part of her until all she could think about was Felix, and her, and her and Felix, forever.

But lips, they were so strange, weren’t they? Squishy and slightly chapped and _human_. And that was mostly what she thought about.

Everything was so, so human when she had expected it all to be so transcendent. The wool collar of her sweater was itchy and too warm for the hot and humid greenhouse. Her palms were so sweaty and she was certain Felix probably wanted to let go – perhaps he’d forgotten he had grabbed her hand in the first place? And maybe Felix thought he’d pushed her up against a solid wall, but he hadn’t; he’d cornered her against some particularly thorny plant, and she could feel the branches poking into her back.

He pulled away too fast and Annette fell into him, grabbing his shirt for balance before he managed to set her back on her feet.

“I should – that was – I thought you –” Felix started, looking at every corner of the greenhouse except where Annette was standing. “I need to go.”

“Wait,” Annette cried, grabbing his hand and then remembering her stupid, sweaty palms and dropping it immediately. It was enough to freeze Felix in his tracks, though, and she jumped on the opportunity. “Was it . . . was I that bad?”

“You? What? You’re perfect, you know that,” Felix said, and Annette certainly did _not_ know that, but she wasn’t about to correct him. He sighed, and finally managed to look at her. “Did _you_ think it was that bad?”

Annette faltered and looked away. “It was . . .it was . . .” She looked back at him and suddenly smiled, giggling at how he blushed at her. “It was better than books. I didn’t think anything could be better than –”

Felix swooped down and kissed her again, and she grabbed his collar for balance and pulled herself closer to him. And it was still strange and human and awkward and overwhelming, but it was real and it was hers, and all the fairy tales and knightly legends in the world didn’t know what they were missing.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Reunited_

“I didn’t expect you to be in Fhridiad.”

“My mother and I are summering here. I didn’t expect you to be in Fhridiad.”

“My father wants me to keep an eye on the b – on Dimitri.”

Annette and Felix stood in silence by the lion topiary. The guests milled around them at the garden party; the upper echelon of Fhirdiad’s society gathering and gossiping and having a wonderful summer. Annette wished she’d chosen a newer dress. Or tried harder on her makeup.

“How do you know Miss Bryant?”

“We attended the School of Sorcery together. How do you know her?”

“I think she’s trying to marry Sylvain.”

“Oh.” Annette looked over, and indeed her former classmate did have her arm draped around Sylvain rather obviously, despite his height. “Poor thing,” she added.

Felix gave a short laugh, which surprised her. “Are you still writing songs?” he asked, after a pause.

Annette frowned. “No.”

“Well then,” Felix said.

Annette cleared her throat. “It is surprising to run into you here! I really didn’t think I’d see any old friends at this party. I suppose you probably have more important –”

“I wanted to see you,” Felix said, quickly. “Not here, specifically. This was unexpected. But again. I wanted to see you again.”

“Really?” asked Annette. That was also unexpected. Felix never seemed to _want_ much of anything, beyond sparring matches and to be left alone.

“Yeah,” said Felix, suddenly very interested in the crowd of people he didn’t care about.

“Then,” Annette said slowly. “You could always – you could visit. Or write. You don’t have to wait for us to run into each other.”

Felix paused, and then smiled, and that was even rarer than his laugh.

“I’d like that,” he said.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_A Journey_

“A bed!” Annette exclaimed as she opened the door, as if this were a surprising and delightful thing, and not literally the only requisite piece of furniture for an inn room to possess.

She charged forward and flopped face-first on the bed, dropping her bag on the floor with a matching thud. Her feet hung over the edge without touching the ground; she didn’t even bother to take off her boots.

“I’m so tired, Felix,” she said, her face muffled into a pillow. “Let’s never travel again.”

Felix rolled his eyes and sat on the bed next to her, the dip in the mattress causing her to tilt into him. “You’re the one who wanted to honeymoon in Derdriu,” he said. “We could’ve gotten from Dominic to Fhirdiad in a day, but you needed some fancy Alliance city.” He tugged off her boots, then his boots, tossing them across the room to land next to Annette’s abandoned luggage.

Annette rolled over and looked up at him, running her hand up his arm and fiddling with the decorative buckles on his jacket. “Anyone could find us in Fhirdiad,” she said, her voice the most practical and logical whine Felix had ever heard. “I just wanted you to myself for a few days.”

Felix looked away with a scoff. Her eyes were incredibly blue, and she was looking right at him. “Well, we’ve got two days of travel left, so you’ll get your wish,” he said shortly.

“Felix,” Annette said, more of a whine this time, tugging more insistently on his jacket sleeve.

There was only so long Felix could resist Annette pouting at him. He leaned down to kiss her, putting travel fatigue and logistics aside and thinking about his own wishes for the moment.

Later that night, when Annette was running her fingers through his hair and humming absently to herself, Felix looked at her. Her eyes were still startlingly blue, even in candlelight.

“You know,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual. “We could always extend our stay here a day or two, get to Derdriu a bit later. If you’re so tired from travel.”

Annette gave a thoughtful hum and flashed him a smile, as if he were a surprising and delightful thing. She rolled away from him and leaned over the edge of the bed to blow the candle out.

“Ask me again tomorrow; I have a feeling I might be tired in the morning,” she said with a giggle, and Felix was already reaching to pull her back to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're cute prompts and I feel like this is good timing for unapologetic fluff! So why not!
> 
> I'll be updating [ this thread ](https://twitter.com/Rose3Writes/status/1333858833576325120) on my twitter account daily if you want to keep up with the Fluffcember fun! And let me know if you write anything yourself; it's been a fun event so far.
> 
> I hope your own Ethereal Moon is full of cozy, fluffy things. Hugs and kisses, everyone!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annette goes for a swim; Felix disparages parties; Garreg Mach holds a festival. Among other things.

_Swimming_

Annette had many names for Felix. Evil, villain, scoundrel, cad, miscreant. But he was pretty sure that even after four months of marriage, “spoilsport” was a new one.

“That’s a bit unfair,” he said mildly, unconcerned with his wife’s insults even if they were increasingly creative. “I said I’d come along, didn’t I?”

“But you’re just going to _stay_ on the _sand_?” Annette protested, incredulous. “You’re not even going to dip a toe in?”

“My boots are too tall, sorry,” Felix said, utterly unapologetic. Annette had dressed to swim, some over-the-top bathing costume that Felix had to admit was flattering, even if he didn’t think much of her suggestion for an afternoon trip. Annette was already pulling off her shoes, eyeing the ocean eagerly.

“You’re going to be jealous when I’m splashing around having fun and you’re standing up here like a boring old rusty lance,” she said, smiling at him beautifully as she insulted him.

“Ocean’s not for swimming,” Felix said with a shrug. “Painting, I’d get. Staring at, fine. But humans don’t belong in the water.”

“Oh, shush, I had so many lovely beach holidays as a child. Blue Sea Moon by the blue sea,” Annette sang with a laugh, and Felix had to smile as she untied her sunhat and pushed it towards him. “Hold my hat, spoilsport.”

Felix frowned as he looked back out at the ocean below them. “If you say so,” he said hesitantly, but Annette was already skipping down the sand away from him.

Annette ran down to the shoreline. A wave rushed up towards Annette.

For one perfect moment, they overlapped, sea water rising up to her waist.

And then in a perfect mirror, the wave receded and Annette turned and ran back to Felix.

“F-f-f-felix!” she cried, rubbing her arms and shivering. “I-i-it’s fre-e-e-e-e-ezing.”

“I know,” Felix said, unimpressed. “Ocean’s cold. Always is.” He frowned, suddenly piecing a realization together. “Maybe the ocean’s warmer in Dominic?” he guessed.

“What k-k-kind of villain lives in a place where the ocean is c-c-c-cold in the _summer_?” Annette demanded.

“Sorry about my villainous climate,” Felix replied. He was already shaking out a towel, large and pink and absurdly fluffy, which he had dug out of a back closet that morning, remembering the handful of times he and Glenn had braved Fraldarius beaches. “Here,” he said, holding out the towel. Annette stepped into it, and he wrapped her in a towel and a hug at the same time.

Annette pressed against him, murmuring a string of ineffectual insults that he suspected were directed at the ocean itself. Felix wrapped his arms around her and waited for her to stop shivering.

“We’re summering in Dominic next year,” she mumbled, burying her face against his jacket. Felix leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

She insisted on both the towel and his arms around her when they made their way back home.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Dreams_

Felix thought he’d forget the songs, but he never did.

Not after he left Garreg Mach, not after the coup in Fhirdiad, not after year after year of watching his country slowly fall apart as he moved from front line to front line.

Not after the return of the broken prince, the boar king. Not after he saw her again, and heard the songs again, and realized he’d remembered them perfectly, five years later.

Not after restoration, after victory, when the story should have ended and the songs should have, as well. They stayed with him, they followed him. Some nights he felt trapped by them and some nights he practically begged for them, but they were always there.

Soldiers don’t talk about their dreams, not during war. Maybe that was why it wasn’t until years later, when Sylvain confided a recurring nightmare or Dimitri confessed to another sleepless night, that Felix realized what the songs were.

Silly and unstructured and illogical, they kept the nightmares at bay. They drowned out his anxieties. They replaced his worst fears.

It was only after the war that Felix saw Annette for what she was. A guardian. A protector.

A shield.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Fancy Party_

Felix stood in a corner of the banquet hall and wondered which of his idiot friends would try to talk to him first that evening. Odds were always on Ingrid, but peace talks with Almyra had gone so well there was a strong chance Dimitri would stumble over, tipsy on one glass of wine, to ramble about how important Felix was to the Kingdom.

It ended up being Sylvain, which was less likely when there were women to flirt with but somehow worse than the other two combined.

“You know, buddy, I don’t understand you,” he said, sipping his champagne and looking around the room with a distinct predatory air.

“That’s fine,” said Felix shortly.

“Six months we’ve been doing this and you’ve complained about every celebration. The return to Fhirdiad. Dimitri’s official coronation. Your own appointment as Duke. Saints, you said that celebrating Marianne’s _birthday_ was a ‘waste of a valuable evening.’”

“I was right. Marianne hates attention; Dimitri should have just bought her another horse.”

“And yet we have a banquet to inaugurate negotiation talks – which you _also_ disparage nonstop – and you show up wearing your evening’s finest and stay for longer than fifteen minutes at the one event you could slip away from.”

Felix shrugged. “I’ll leave soon enough.”

Sylvain flashed him a grin. It was still predatory, if in a different way. “I don't suppose reports of a certain eligible noblewoman recently arrived in Fhirdiad influenced your decision to stay?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Felix said, but he fell for Sylvain’s trap. He looked across the room to where Annette was standing.

Her hair was piled up in curls, a few loose strands framing her face. She wore a dress with jewels or rhinestones or glitter along the neckline, and it sparkled in the candlelight, even from this distance. She’d grown thinner in the last five months, which worried him, but she still threw her head back with the same unbridled joy when she laughed at something Mercedes said to her. He knew exactly what that laugh sounded like.

“So are you planning on talking to her, or is standing in the corner glowering really your idea of a good evening?”

“My idea of a good evening is challenging annoying charlatans to duels if they don’t leave me alone,” Felix snapped.

Sylvain held up his hands, unconcerned. “Then I guess for my own safety, I’m going to go speak to the court musicians and see if they know more lively songs. Annette loves a gavotte, you know.” He turned back after walking a few steps – Sylvain never said one word when he could say seven. “And Felix,” he added. “If Claude von Riegan asks her to dance before you get up the nerve, after all this work I’m going through for you – I’ll challenge you to a duel myself.”

Felix told himself he left his corner after that to avoid another inevitable lecture from Ingrid, but it wasn’t a very convincing lie.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Dessert_

On festival days, Garreg Mach’s market was lined with food stalls. Felix always watched in amazement as Annette sampled them all.

“This one’s not too sweet,” she claimed, breaking apart a sticky bun and handing him half. It tasted like sugar infused with honey.

“Maybe this?” she offered, waving something gelatinous at him. It was a cruel bastardization of strawberries in both color and taste.

“You’ll like this one; it’s spicy,” she promised, offering a red-flecked truffle. That one was okay, actually.

“Annette, wait,” he interrupted as she held up her sorbet. “You finish that yourself; I don’t need to try it.”

Her eyes filled with disappointment, her orange-tinted lips forming a pout. Felix grabbed her wrist, gently pushed the paper cone of sorbet out of his way, and kissed her.

She tasted like peaches. He momentarily understood her addiction.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Music_

Felix asked Annette about her songs once, before the war.

“Is it an incantation – _scrapes and scratches, potions and patches_?” he recited back to her. “Does it make the magic heal faster?”

Annette blushed furiously. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Felix” she said, punching the injured arm she was supposed to be healing. “You’re embarrassing me.”

As he left the infirmary, Felix realized she’d never answered his question.

*

Felix asked Annette about her songs once, during the war.

“Does it help, to sing?” he wondered, crossing his arms because just asking made him feel vulnerable. “Does it make the world feel less hopeless, to you?”

Annette bit her lip and looked away. “Don’t ask me that Felix,” she said softly, crossing her own arms in protection from the world. “You know I don’t have an answer.”

She left him at the cathedral door, and Felix felt foolish for wanting to know.

*

Felix asked Annette about her songs once, after the war.

“Do you know they’re all I think about?” he said brokenly, grabbing her arm so she wouldn’t look away. “Do you understand what they’ve done to me?”

“Don’t tell me that, Felix,” she pleaded, her hands wrapped in his shirt so tightly he didn’t know who was holding who anymore. “Don’t promise me things if you don’t mean them.”

Felix tightened his grip, pulling her closer, desperate to keep her from leaving.

“I’ve meant everything I’ve ever said,” he whispered. “I’ve meant everything I’ve ever asked.”

She kissed him and it was magic, and it was hope, and it was music. She kissed him, and it was an answer to everything he’d ever wanted to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of these are distinctly summer-y, I'll grant you that, and some are a little melodramatic for fluff, I guess, but as always, I do what I want! And I just think Annette deserves a life full of peach sorbet and cute bathing suits.
> 
> I'm updating[ my twitter thread ](https://twitter.com/Rose3Writes/status/1333858833576325120) daily if you want to follow along Fluffcember. You can also see the full prompt list [here.](https://twitter.com/doop_doop2/status/1306753380182712321) And I'll be updating the non-Netteflix entries as part of the same series, if, like me, you're a shameless multishipper.
> 
> Hugs and kisses!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix punches a guy who probably deserved it. Annette really does not want Felix to read her diary. There's a lot of kissing in this one, I don't know.

_Gifts_

“I’m not getting you a sword.”

Felix blinked up sleepily at Annette’s frowning face. She’d asked the question offhandedly, between songs and running her fingers through his hair, and he’d barely been awake when he’d answered, let alone thinking about what he was saying.

“Why not?” he asked, now more awake and always content to play devil’s advocate. “You asked me what I wanted. I like swords.”

“It’s our _wedding anniversary_ ,” Annette protested, poking him in the cheek to emphasize her annoyance. “Be more romantic. And anyway, how would I even know what a good sword looked like?”

Felix closed his eyes before he rolled them to avoid more cheek poking. As if he even knew what romantic things were.

“How about a nice steak dinner?” he asked, “You’ve always claimed to be good at making those.”

“That could be a – Felix! Are you making _fun_ of me?” Annette said, and Felix didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “I can’t believe you even remember me saying that.”

“It was a tempting offer,” Felix said with a shrug. “And you were cute. Hard to forget the first time a cute girl is nice to you.”

“I told you that you were the worst person I’d ever met in that same conversation,” Annette reminded him.

Felix laughed. “Still memorable.”

Annette had begun weaving her fingers through his hair again. Felix had never been one to slow down, but he was beginning to see the appeal of an afternoon doing nothing.

“I still don’t know what you want for our anniversary,” she reminded him after a while.

“Still thinking swords is a good option,” Felix replied.

“Feeee-lix.”

Felix relented. He opened his eyes again, looking up at Annette pouting at him. He reach up and cupped his hand around her cheek, his own fingertips getting tangled up in her hair for a moment.

“I want this,” he mumbled. “I want you. Still can’t believe I got that.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Annette said, a genuine delight in her voice that still seemed rare and special to Felix’s ears. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, brushing his hair aside.

“If you get me a sword for our anniversary, I’ll stab you with it,” she whispered in his ear before pulling away.

Felix smiled as she started singing again. It was a fair compromise.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Bed Sharing_

“You know,” Annette said as Felix drew lazy circles across her back with one hand. “Lots of husbands bring their wives breakfast in bed on festival days.”

“Mm,” Felix replied noncommittally. Annette wasn’t sure he was even entirely awake yet. “Is that actually a thing, or did you just make that up?”

Annette sat up and stretched, squeaking slightly as she lifted her elbows over her head, but she just collapsed back into Felix’s arms. It was far too early to be up if the jousting tournament and banquet weren’t until afternoon, anyway, and the church services weren’t until evening.

“Ashe told me Dedue brings him breakfast in bed, sometimes,” she said, looking up and tucking a piece of hair behind Felix’s ear. “It’s definitely a thing.”

Felix blinked at her sleepily, unimpressed. “They run an inn; their entire _thing_ is making breakfast,” he argued. “Doesn’t count.”

“I bet Dimitri brings Byleth anything they want.”

“I hope they don’t eat it,” Felix scoffed. “Do you _remember_ the days he was on cooking duty at Garreg Mach?”

Annette pouted. “Well, Hilda and Marianne –”

“Can you actually see Hilda getting up early to do that?”

Annette paused and tried to imagine Hilda doing much of anything. Maybe? “No,” she finally admitted.

There was a long silence. Felix had resumed lazy circles. Annette buried her head more firmly against his sleep shirt.

“Do you want breakfast in bed?” Felix finally asked.

“It’s cold,” Annette complained. “Don’t leave me.”

She looked up just in time to watch his face contort through a series of confused, annoyed, and exasperated features. Felix could barely follow her logic when he was awake; teasing him this early in the morning was probably just cruel. When she burst into a laugh, he looked no less exasperated, but Annette knew Felix’s version of fondness when she saw it.

Annette gently nudged him back against the pillows and kissed him, dropping the topic entirely. Felix wrapped his arms around her more fully and pulled her on top of him as he kissed her back, still sleepy, still lazy.

Annette decided she could worry about pastries and tea later.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Chores_

Felix looked up at Annette, which was a strange feeling. She gave him a slight pout when she looked back at him, which was not.

He handed her another book.

“This can’t be the most efficient use of your time,” Annette remarked. She scanned the top shelf, running her hand along the spines of the books and muttering the authors’ names to herself, before she found the spot she wanted and shelved the book she was holding.

Felix handed her another book.

“I can’t think of what else I’d be doing,” he said as she leaned in the other direction. The ladder made her a full two feet taller than him, and he watched her heels wobble against the middle rung with a slight frown.

“Training? Sleeping? Praying?” Annette suggested. Felix scoffed at all of these in turn – training was tempting, but not this late at night. Annette took another book. “At the very least, we could divide the stack up and go twice as fast.”

“I’m good,” Felix said. “You know where all the books go, not me.”

“You know what I think?” Annette asked, looking down at him suspiciously. “I think you’re just hoping I’ll sing something embarrassing again. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

Felix almost winced, she was so close to her mark. He didn’t have much of a _good_ reason for anything he did these days, it seemed. All he had was plausible deniability. He turned his guilt into a careless shrug.

“I wouldn’t mind hearing the second verse to the library song. But that’s not the only reason I’m – ah!”

As if on cue, Annette’s heel slipped from the ladder. Her arms windmilled around her head and she gave a small shriek, her copy of _Magical Theories and Theorems_ going flying across the room. Felix dropped the remaining books with a clatter, but when he caught her, it felt inevitable.

Maybe it was.

“Told you not to dance up there,” Felix said. Annette twisted in his arms until she could look up at him, inadvertently grabbing his collar and puling him closer.

“Felix Fraldarius!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking as she looked up at him. “Have you been waiting around all night just to see me fall?”

Felix paused before answering, both because he was fairly sure whatever answer he gave would be the wrong one and because he realized from this close that her eyes were flecked with green and he’d somehow never noticed. When said green-flecked eyes narrowed, he tried his best for an answer.

“Not exactly,” he said. He moved to set her on her feet, though she still had a hand grabbing his collar. “I was waiting around to catch you.”

The kiss felt inevitable, too.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Reminiscing_

“I can’t believe this,” Annette grumbled. Felix thought she looked very pretty in the moonlight when she frowned.

Annette began wrapping Felix’s knuckles, which were just scraped up enough that he’d otherwise get blood all over the palace’s fanciest tablecloths. He wasn’t sure where she’d gotten the bandages.

“Eight months of peace and I’m still patching you up,” she said darkly, her fingers flicking over his with just enough white magic to sooth as she wrapped the bandage. “Have you tried being peaceful during peacetime, Felix? Going to one fancy dinner without starting a fight?”

“I didn’t start it,” Felix said defensively. “Lord What’s-His-Mustache _clearly_ threw the first punch.”

“You called him an odious toad!” Annette exclaimed.

“Do you deny that he’s an odious toad?” Felix asked, arching an eyebrow at her. Annette didn’t reply.

She worked in silence for a moment, moving to his other hand.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Felix mumbled, even though she wasn’t looking at him at all, and that was the problem. “This isn’t nearly as bad as the last time you and I were in a healer’s tent together, remember that?”

“I’m surprised _you_ remember,” Annette said. “I swear you lost about half the blood in your body.”

“Damn demonic beasts,” Felix agreed with surprising cheerfulness. “Or the time that assassin got a lucky shot with a poisoned arrow?”

“It would have been fine if you had actually _told someone_ , Felix,” Annette said. Her fingers tightened around his. Felix couldn’t tell if she was done wrapping the bandages or not.

“I told you. Eventually,” Felix said. More like she had found him gasping for air against a crumbling wall and had gone into a justified full-on panic.

“Or the time that entire swath of bandits ganged up on you,” Annette said, getting into the spirit of the conversation now. “Goddess, you were dumb when you were seventeen.”

“And we survived all of that. You don’t need to worry,” Felix said, because he knew she worried, constantly.

Annette wrinkled her nose, unconvinced. “It’s _because_ I’ve known you so long that I worry, Felix,” she mumbled. She raised his knuckles, bruised and bandaged, to her lips, kissing his hands more gently than he deserved. “I want you to know peacetime,” she added quietly.

Felix’s heart skipped a beat, and fumbled for what to say to that – to any of this. Annette, perhaps expecting an answer, perhaps disappointed in him, slowly dropped his hands and looked back inside, where the royal banquet was still going on despite Felix’s inevitable disruptions.

Felix grabbed her hands again, leaning in. “You got me through war,” he said, because it was true, because she had always been there, because he had never been as alone as he’d wanted to believe. “I can learn peace, for you.”

Felix wished his hands weren’t calloused and his bandages weren’t rough when he tilted Annette’s chin up to kiss her, but on the whole she didn’t seem to mind.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Diary_

Felix and Annette sat on their bed, completely surrounded by stacks of papers.

“Aww, look Felix, it’s my notes from Professor Byleth’s first lecture!” Annette cooed, shuffling some faded parchment. “You and Ingrid argued the _entire_ time!”

Annette’s trunk of school notes had sat in the back of their closet since she moved to Fraldarius. She’d finally decided to sort through it.

“Why did you even take notes in Jeritza’s weapon seminar?” Felix asked. “His method was to throw a weapon to you and attack.”

“That might be why my handwriting is so bad,” Annette said, peering over his shoulder.

“That explains a – what is _this_?” Felix asked, reaching under a stack of notes and pulling out a small book bound with a bright floral cover.

Annette dived for the book with surprising agility. Felix raised it out of her reach.

“Oh goddess, don’t read that,” she said. “That was my diary. This is so embarrassing.”

Felix raised the book higher and Annette clamored after it. Vaguely concerned Annette would try standing on their bed, Felix swung an arm around her and she collapsed on top of him.

“C’mon, Annie, just let me read a couple pages,” he said. Felix had recently learned the concept of cajoling, and while he would have previously considered the technique beneath him, he had to admit there was something fun about the internal struggle playing across Annette’s face.

“Fine! _One_ page, and then you give it back to me immediately,” she said, climbing off him and settling across from him with her arms crossed. “Wait – I said one! That’s so many pages!” she cried out almost immediately as Felix began flipping through the book.

“Well I need to find where you wrote about _me_ ,” Felix said. “If I only get one page I’m going to make it count.”

Annette wrung her hands nervously. “This was such a bad idea. Maybe – maybe let me pick the page. I can’t even remember what I wrote. This is so –”

“‘Felix Fraldarius is an ignorant toad’?” Felix read incredulously. “Really, Annette?” He read a few more words. “A ‘villainous ne’er-do-well’? A ‘greasy-haired eavesdropping scoundrel with no’ – my hair wasn’t greasy!”

Annette covered her face with her hands. “I told you not to read it!” she wailed.

“You had a crush on _Dimitri_?” Felix exclaimed, flipping the page eagerly.

“I couldn’t help it! He was so tall!” Annette said. “And you said _one page_ so give it back, fair is fair.”

Felix handed the diary over. “Fine, fine,” he relented. Anything to keep you from calling me a ‘two-faced monster incapable of human feeling’ again.”

“I should burn this,” Annette said darkly, flipping through the diary.

“You should let me read more,” Felix said, leaning forward and trying to read over her shoulder. “That was riveting.”

“Villain,” Annette muttered, slamming the book shut before he could see any more.

“That one’s stuck around, at least,” Felix said, kissing her ear. “I’m glad you’ve come to terms with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some day I'm going to write this There Was Only One Bed trope you kids are so fond of. I dunno. 2021 New Year's Resolution.
> 
> I wrote these all out of order so I didn't really choose the groupings but I feel like the theme for this chapter is "Annette Finds Felix Vexing But Also Wants To Kiss Him." Maybe that's the theme for everything I write for them. I stand by it, I guess.
> 
> I'm updating[ my twitter thread ](https://twitter.com/Rose3Writes/status/1333858833576325120) daily if you want to follow along Fluffcember. You can also see the full prompt list [here.](https://twitter.com/doop_doop2/status/1306753380182712321) And you can find non-Netteflix pairings as part of this series, if you're interested.
> 
> Have a safe rest of 2020, everyone! The last batch of these will go up in early January, I think. See you then!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A march to Ailell, a wedding invitation, and the weekly meeting of Garreg Mach Big Old Nerds Book Club. And Felix, in general, not really knowing what's happening.
> 
> Some bonus background Flayn/Ignatz in that one!

_Clothing_

The jacket was ridiculously large on Annette.

The sleeves extended past her hands. The hood fell into her eyes. It rendered her completely shapeless.

The color looked nice on her.

“Won’t you be cold?” she asked, walking beside Felix as they continued the northern march.

“’s fine,” Felix mumbled. “Wear something warmer next time.”

“I don’t design these warlock uniforms!” Annette protested. She shivered. “I’ll give it back at Ailell – it’s plenty hot there.”

“No rush,” Felix said stiffly. “It suits you.”

Annette slid her hand into his, still covered by the sleeves. Felix never wanted his jacket back.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Tears_

Annette buried her face deeper into Felix’s vest, and he started tallying a list of his mistakes.

His first mistake was stopping when he saw her, tucked away on a low wall in the corner of the gardens, crying her eyes out. He should have kept walking. Not because he was unfeeling (he didn’t think he was?), but because he knew well enough when someone wanted to be left alone.

His second mistake was sitting next to her after awkwardly handing her a handkerchief. She had the handkerchief now; she didn’t need him there. By any metric he was extraneous at this point.

His third mistake was offering Annette a solid pat on the back, having little else to do and nothing else to say. He had tried to make it friendly, sporting even, like the way Dimitri would clap Ashe on the shoulder after a sparring match. He must have done something wrong, though, because it just caused Annette to cry harder when she leaned into him.

And now he sat with Annette sobbing against him, practically sitting in his lap, her arms slung around him and her neatly braided pigtails coming undone and tickling his nose. His academy-issued dress shirt was fully tear stained, and he still didn’t know what he was doing with his hands. If Mercedes walked by and saw them she would accuse him of attempted kidnapping. If Sylvain walked by and saw them he would accuse him of something somehow worse.

He still didn’t even know why she was crying.

“It’s, um . . . it’s okay,” he ventured, really, really hoping this wouldn’t turn into mistake number four. “It’s going to be okay?”

Annette hiccupped and leaned back for a moment, rubbing her eyes. “Please don’t tell everyone how red my nose turns when I cry,” she said miserably, as if that was anywhere near his top concerns right now.

“Wasn’t really planning – okay,” Felix said resignedly as Annette sunk back into him, sniffling and hiccupping and with no evident intention of leaving.

In the back of his mind, Felix realized he didn’t want her to leave, despite the snot on his shirt and the places he needed to be and whatever wild accusation she was going to throw at him next. In the back of his mind, Felix was glad he had stopped, and sat down, and asked her if she was okay when she so clearly wasn’t. And that might have been his biggest mistake of all.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Books_

“But Sir Dagonat . . . the lord of that castle has been dead for fourteen years!”

Annette screamed delightedly as Ashe lowered the book with a dramatic flourish. Even Mercie offered a giggle from her corner chair as she started a new line of knitting.

“I thought you’d read this one before, Annie!” she laughed.

“I have, but Ashe reads it _so well_ ,” Annette insisted, leaning back against a library shelf. “It’s like hearing it for the first time!”

“Aw, thanks, Annette,” Ashe said, blushing. He held the book out to her. “I do think it’s your turn to read, though.”

“Saints, I don’t know if I can do half these voices as well as you can,” Annette laughed, taking the book from him. She pitched her voice an octave lower and gave her best impression of a knight. “Fare thee well, fair maiden,” she grumbled. “How was that?”

“Like Sir Dagonat was in the room,” Ashe assured her. “I’ve honestly never heard such – oh. Hello, Felix.”

His face fell faster than Sir Dagonat off a cliff at the end of the previous chapter. Annette turned so fast she almost fell, herself. Sure enough, Felix stood glaring at them, standing at a bookshelf a few feet away. He had a book partially pulled off the shelf, and he briefly looked like he might try to hide behind it to avoid talking to them.

“Ashe. Annette. Mercedes,” he greeted with no warmth. “Using your free day to study?”

“Not exactly,” Ashe said. “We’re reading some of our favorite knights’ tales. Anyone’s welcome to join! But . . . you said you don’t like tales of chivalry, didn’t you?”

“Hate ‘em,” Felix said, stalking over to a nearby chair with his book. Annette could make out the word “swords” in the title.

The three friends looked at each other uncertainly. Strictly speaking, you were supposed to be quiet in the library, but when no one was around the librarian didn’t seem to mind a little laughter. It was harder to justify with another student sitting three feet away, however.

Annette sadly handed the book back to Ashe. Mercedes began to pack up her knitting.

“What, did you finish the story?” Felix asked as Ashe stood up. “Don’t let me stop you from whatever drivel Sir Useless is undertaking.”

“We didn’t want to disturb anyone,” Ashe said. “If you have to study –”

“Ugh. Don’t worry about it,” Felix snapped. “It’s not like I’m listening.”

He was back into his pages of _Swords!_ before anyone could protest. Ashe hesitated a moment, then sat back down. Annette took the book back and, with a final curious glance at Felix, began reading in a slightly quieter voice.

The chivalry and bravery of Sir Dagonat were so engrossing she soon forgot she was supposed to be quiet and returned to wild laughter and bad impressions. No one noticed that Felix didn’t turn a single page for the rest of the afternoon.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Wedding_

“Cancel your important meetings during Horsebow Moon,” Annette called from her small desk in their bedroom, where she sat reading that morning’s letters. “We’ve just been invited to Flayn and Ignatz’s wedding.”

“Why would they invite _us_?” Felix asked, coming out of their suite’s washroom, his hair still damp and his shirt only halfway buttoned. “Maybe they got the address wrong.”

“Don’t be silly, Flayn _adored_ you during school,” Annette said with a laugh. She was already taking a quill out to reply that they would be there.

Felix frowned. “Were they at our wedding?”

“Ignatz gave us that portrait as a gift, don’t you remember?”

“Oh.” Felix looked up above their dresser, where Annette beamed down at them from her chair and Felix stood beside her, glowering. “I guess he did.”

“What’s wrong, darling?” Annette asked, not looking up from her letter. “Don’t you want to be reminded of the utmost beauty of matrimonial bliss?”

Felix walked over to her and glared over her shoulder at her enthusiastic response, inadvertently mirroring their wedding portrait. “If I wanted that we could just stay home,” he muttered, sliding his arms around her shoulders, and only partially because he wanted to distract her from writing.

Annette dropped her quill and leaned back to look up at him. “Duke Fraldarius, hopeless romantic,” she said with a giggle, sliding her hands over his. “I do hope they let you give a toast.”

Felix suppressed a shudder at the thought, and continued his attempts at distraction.

In the long term, they’d still have to go to the wedding, but the short term might make it worth it.

⊱ ──────❈────── ⊰

_Future_

Annette looked over at Felix, leaning against a tree, flipping through the pages. “I don’t see why you bother with that,” she said.

He looked up. “With what?”

“Rereading the songs. You hear me sing them to the children every night. And you always say you can’t forget them.”

“I can’t,” Felix said with a shrug, turning the page. “But I still like to see them.” He frowned. “You haven’t written the Moon Song down yet, have you?”

“Why bother?” Annette almost laughed. “They’re just silly songs.”

Another shrug. “I don’t think of them that way,” Felix said. “I’m glad you’re writing them down. They’re worth remembering, I think.”

“Remembering?” Annette repeated. “So much for permanently etched –”

“In _my_ memory, yeah,” Felix finished the sentence before Annette could. He snapped the journal shut and pulled her closer, so she was leaning against him, looking up at him and the leaves above. “But I’m glad the songs will be here after I’m gone.”

Annette closed her eyes and leaned her head back and let the wind in the leaves and Felix’s fingers in her hair stand in for a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap on Fluffcember! I mean, technically December ended, by my sense of things, about 37 years ago, but that's a wrap on me specifically _posting_ Fluffcember pieces. Thanks to everyone who read and commented, especially people over on twitter from the Netteflix and Sylgrid shipping circles! I've said it before but check out the tag if you get a chance; there was some really cute flash fiction going on all month for a variety of ships.
> 
> Speaking of, I've linked all the non-Netteflix Fluffcember drabbles as part of the same series, so check that out if you're still on the lookout for vignettes. And as always, you can [ follow me on twitter ](https://twitter.com/Rose3Writes) if you want to say hi and/or talk me out of ever doing one of these again.
> 
> Congrats on surviving 2020, everyone! Hugs and kisses to you all.


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